Through the View of the Pained and the Optimist
by IronLOTRgurl
Summary: Peeta and Katniss arent the only two that went through pain and struggle during the Hunger Games. What happen to Haymitch and Effie throughout the trilogy? Did they grow closer or apart? What all did they do for Panem?
1. Chapter 1

**This story is from the view point of Haymitch and occasionally Effie through the trilogy. **

**I don't own the Hunger Games and will use some scenes from the books**

A ragged middle aged man with light colored greasy hair that framed his face took a large swig of his scotch, shaking his head slightly as he felt the numbing sensation that the strong alcohol permitted him. He shivered and sighed contently, chugging the rest down. The man then pushed his empty bottle to the side and reached for another full bottle.

"Haymitch Abernathy! Don't you dare drink another bottle!" A heavily accented voice sounded through the room causing Haymitch to jump in a drunken manner. His hand then jerked into the bottle he was reaching for, knocking it over and sending it falling to the floor. It hit the ground and shattered into small pieces, the beer sloshing into a large puddle.

Cursing loudly, Haymitch stood up violently, almost tripping and toppling over. He held on tightly to his chair to regain his balance, his knuckles turning white. "Effie!" Haymitch hissed, his words slurring together angrily, "Don't get in the way of my drinking!" He glared at her sharply one last time and turned away from her, preparing to walk away.

Effie rolled her eyes at him and sighed, "Haymitch, the Reaping is today, a couple hours from now!" She snapped, her pink wig bouncing slightly on the top of her head, "Can't you just be sober for one year?! I just want District 12 to not be laughed at for once! We are a humiliation to all of Panem!" She sighed angrily, tossing her hands up into the air and her glare at him harshened in intensity. "And, it might come as a surprise to you but you ARE the reason behind this!" Effie yelled the last part and then took a step backwards. Her mouth gapped slightly and she stared at Haymitch in humiliation, realizing the extremely unladylike action she had just preformed.

Haymitch smirked at her and smiled dangerously, the smile never reached eyes, "Sweetheart, no one gets between me and my drinking. Got it?" He threatened in a strangely calm voice, his words still slurring together, "Good." He said simply and stumbled out of the room, very much drunk.

Effie shook her head tiredly as she watched him stumble out of the room, causing her large vibrant wig to become tilted. She fixed it absentmindedly and walked quickly out of the room to get ready for the Reaping, wondering how the heck she would be able to deal with that man and work with him for the rest of her life.

A couple of hours later, Haymitch sat on a couch viciously drinking from a stock of alcohol that Effie and had not already found. He took a small brake and looked around the room he was in. It had transformed into something unrecognizable by him, it had become very blurry and seemed to be spinning around him as he sat still on the couch. The lighting also appeared to be different to him and odd, random splashes of color seemed to appear around the room in which he swore were not there before. He shook his head and sighed contently, once again enjoying the sensation that the drink gave. The Reaping day was always the start of his large consumption of alcohol. He always drank a lot during the Hunger Games for it reminded him of the beginning, when he had been reaped. Now he had to prepare young children for their death and there was hardly anything he could do for them. No one deserved this, except maybe the Capitol. Alcohol helped clear these thoughts from his mind and almost made it possible for him to live.

"Mr. Abernathy, you are late for the Reaping and are needed immediately." A strongly built Peacekeeper walked into his room and spoke in a commanding voice.

Haymitch looked up at him with his eyes slightly crossed and his head swaying, "Hehe, yeah I'mma comin big fella," He grins maniacally and laughs, stumbling out of his chair and holding the Peacekeepers arm for support, he pats his back once and mumbles for the Peacekeeper to lead him there. The Peacekeeper glares at Haymitch and leads the very drunk man to the Reaping. Once they reach the stage, Haymitch stumbles onto it alone and yells something unintelligent, grinning wildly. He falls clumsily into one of three chairs and attempts to hug Effie who is seated in the chair beside him, "Hi Honey!" He slurs, "You miss me?" He laughs and Effie pushes him away with a struggle. He shrugs it off and grins when the audience applauds for him as they do every year.

Haymitch watches the Reaping, slightly confused about what is going on and not completely understanding. He watches as a little girl is called to the stage and then an older girl volunteers for her. He can't remember her name but he knows he likes this girl. Haymitch then slowly gets out of his chair and stumbles forward to congratulate her and all eyes are upon him.

"Look at her. Look at this one!" He yells, throwing an arm around her shoulders. "I like her!" His voice slurs and he looks out at the audience gathered. "Lots of..." He pauses for a second, trying to think of the word. "Spunk!" he grins triumphantly. "More than you!" He says suddenly, releasing the girl and heads to the front of the stage. "More than you!" He shouts looking straight at the camera, thinking of some one hated in his alcohol clouded mind. At that moment he falls of the stage and knocks himself unconscious. All cameras are trained on him and Effie watches with disgust as he is whisked away on a stretcher.

**Please review:)**


	2. The Train Ride Part 1- Haymitch's POV

**If you think this story would be better as a 3****rd**** person POV, please tell me:) In future chapters, I will also write in Effie's POV.**

Haymitch's POV

_I watch as she walks away from me, her words echoing loudly in my mind. She didn't want to kill me herself. I shake my head softly and look down at my feet, kicking a pebble off the cliff just inches away from where I currently stand; I am at the edge of the arena. To my surprise, the small pebble bounces up and it returns back to me. I stare at it for a moment, an idea brewing in my mind before I bend over and grab a rock near my foot. I throw it as hard as I could over the cliff and watch as, much to my pleasure, it returns back to me. "Force field," I murmur quietly, a smirk beginning to form on my face. This discovery would be important later on, I could tell._

_Suddenly a scream that eerily resembled _her_ voice sounded loudly through the air causing my stomach to lurch and ache and my heartbeat to rapidly quicken. I ran towards the noise, horror and adrenaline filling my entire body. _This couldn't be it, not now. She can't die now. I have to do something! I-I-I-_… These thoughts filled my mind and they wouldn't stop, I was too scared, too frightened and these emotions consumed my entire being!_

_And then I found her, surrounded by strange, yet deadly candy pink birds. My heart stopped. My limbs went limp, unable to move anymore. For at that precise moment, one bird flew forward and speared her neck with it's razor sharp beak._

_She fell. Damn those birds, she fell. I ran forward, knowing that there was nothing I could do for her but I had to be there. She was going to die and there was nothing I could possibly do to prevent it but I had to be with her. For her family, for her, for… me, I had to be by her side as she died._

_I stared down at her horribly limp body with crimson red blood flowing like a river from her neck. Her eyes were already becoming dull and I could tell her sight was already fading. She was fading. I knelt down by her side, every second stretching out and lasting a lifetime. I reached out, grabbed her hand and felt her grip tighten on it as if holding onto me could prevent her from dieing. This thought caused the lump in my throat, which was already starting to grow, to expand larger._

_"I'm sorry…" I choked softly so only she could hear, bile rising in my throat. My head began to shake slightly out of sorrow for her horrible yet inevitable fate, "I am so, so sorry." I stared into her fading eyes, mine beginning to mist. I blinked once to clear them. It would not do good to show weakness._

_ I do not know why I was feeling such sorrow for her as we had never really known each other or had much of a relationship before we were reaped into the Games._

_She takes one shuddering breath that shook her entire body and spoke in a faint voice that I had to strain my ears hard to hear, "It's…It's…n-not your…fault…" She exhales quickly and her head rolls over to the side, her small, cold hand going limp in my large, bloodstained one._

_I looked into her sightless eyes with horror; the sensation was so unreal and unnerving. I reached out my shaking and clammy hand to her face and slowly closed those strange eyes; I proceeded carefully as to not hurt her, as if she was still alive and could feel pain. I took one last look at her limp body; it was ghostly pale and the dark red blood from her wounded neck contrasted grotesquely with her inhumanly gray flesh. I took a deep breath and stood up weakly, forcing myself to look away from that horrible sight. I began to walk away in the direction I had come, back to my force field and back to my cliff, back to the place where she had left me._

_Her canon rang through the air, loud and clear. It screamed to the world of her death, such a pathetic way to announce it. Always has been, always will be._

_Suddenly, I felt such large and uncontrollable anger, as I have never experienced before._

_This was the first ever death I had experienced._

_Maysilee Donner, my ally that had saved my life, was dead and all because of the Capitol..._

I wake up shivering, my bed drenched with freezing cold sweat. I curse loudly as the effects of my hangover began to consume me, distracting me temporarily of the horrid nightmare that I had just experienced. My hand, the same one that held Maysilee's all lose years ago, reached weakly for a bottle of alcohol that had been set by my bed and I finish it in a couple of loud gulps. I need the alcohol for it is the only thing that can help me forget those dreaded memories that tend to cloud my mind in a thick haze.

I heave myself into sitting position on my bed, extremely miserable and my head spinning; the last thing I remember was when the female tribute was reaped, but I can't even remember her name. Everything yesterday had passed by in a blur and I assume that I had already, some how been placed on the train to the Capitol. I can faintly remember falling of the stage.

I feel bile begin rise in my throat; all this thinking is making me want to puke. The dream I just had isn't helping very much, either. After hobbling unsteadily to a dresser, I open it and blindly grab the first shirt and pants I can find. With much struggle and plenty of swear words, I am able to get dressed and I head off to the dining room where Effie and the tributes probably are already.

Once I reach the door, I walk into the room slowly for the stupid hangover has started to make me feel dizzy. As I have guessed, everyone is already there and I stagger into the compartment, "I miss supper?" I ask, my voice slurred. Suddenly, I feel all the bile that was in my throat rise and before I knew it, I threw up. I took a small step forward into the bile, causing me to trip and fall into the mess.

"So laugh away!" I could faintly hear Effie say in her ridiculous accent. She sounded quite annoyed, that princess. I then heard the sharp click of her pointy shoes as she undoubtedly fled. Despite my gross situation, Effie's disgust causes me to smirk into the vomit that smelled of the spirits that I had drunk and I began to attempt to rise out of the slippery vile.

By now, my mind is completely scattered and I'm dizzy. I have no idea what is going on but I feel one hand grab each of my arms and I am hauled out of my vomit, I guess the tributes decided to help.

"I tripped?" I asked once I was on my feet. "Smells bad." I mumble and resist the strong urge to vomit again. I wiped my hand on my nose, causing my face to become wet and slimy.

"Let's get you back to your room. Clean you up a bit." One of the tributes said but I couldn't tell which because of the state that I was in. I just nod my head slightly in acknowledgment, unable to straighten my thoughts so I could form words. I can vaguely feel myself being half-led half-carried somewhere, but I already forgot where I was going and who was leading me.

My thoughts are becoming choppy.

I've stopped moving.

There are voices; I don't know what they are saying.

Water hits my head. It feels nice.

There is only one other person in the room.

I'm wet.

I feel strangely clean and warm.

Even warmer now.

Darkness envelops me and I am strangely calm.

I have no thoughts and no memories.

I wish I could stay like this forever…

_**Choppy paragraphs were intentional. Please review:) **_


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